Hardscrabble; or, the fall of Chicago. a tale of Indian warfare eBook

“Every thing is ready is the next room,”
answered Captain Headley—­“go in.
When I have announced that the ceremony is about to
take place, I shall hasten to give you the dear girl
for life,” and imprinting a kiss upon her brow,
he passed on to those who were paying their homage
to the punch-bowl, and discussing the merits of the
oration just delivered.

It was with a flushed cheek, and a beating heart that
Maria Heywood was led by Ronayne, radiant with hope
and joy, to the little table covered with plain, white
linen, and illuminated by half a dozen tall candles,
behind which the commanding officer had placed himself
on an elevated estrade.

All of the guests were grouped around, a little in
the rear, while Lieutenant Elmsley stood on the right
hand of his friend, and his wife on the left of the
betrothed. Next to her, in an arm chair, which,
provided with rollers, was easily moved, Mrs. Heywood—­and
with her beautiful arms reposing on the high back
of this, stood Mrs. Headley in graceful attitude,
watching the ceremony with almost maternal interest.
Immediately behind Ronayne, from whom he evidently
did not like to be separated, stood Waunangee, with
an air of deep dejection, yet casting glances rapidly
from one to the other of his two friends.

When the young officer, after having formally received
the bride from her mother, whose strength barely permitted
her to rise and go through that part of the ceremony,
proceeded to place the ring upon the finger of his
wife, it fell, either from nervousness or accident
upon the matted floor. Quick as thought, Waunangee,
who had now his whole attention bent upon the passing
scene, stooped, picked it up, and attempted to place
it on the finger, still extended, for which it was
designed.

“Gently, Waunangee, my good fellow,” said
the officer, piqued not less at his own awkwardness
at such a moment, than at the outre act of the youth,
from whom he rather unceremoniously took it—­“the
husband only does this.”

“Wah!” involuntarily exclaimed the other,
his cheek becoming brighter, and his eyes kindling
into sudden fierceness, while his hand intuitively
clutched the handle of his knife—­yet the
moment afterwards relinquished it. The motion
had been so quick, indeed, that only Mr. Headley and
the bride herself had noticed it.

Still fascinated as it were by the novel scene, Waunangee
moved not away, but the expression of his eyes had
wholly changed. There was no longer to be remarked
there the great melancholy of the past—­but
the wild restless, flashing glance that told of strong
excitement within.

When immediately afterwards they knelt, and had their
hands joined by Captain Headley, Waunangee bent eagerly
forward, as if apprehensive of losing the slightest
part of the ceremonial, but when at the conclusion,
Ronayne saluted his wife in the usual manner, his
cheek became suddenly pale as its native hue would
permit, and with folded arms and proud attitude he
withdrew slowly from the place he had hitherto occupied,
to mingle more with the crowd behind.